what we do best

part fourteen

The sunlight spills into Tristan's room early that morning. The sleeping bag next to mine is empty, but Zoey still sleeps comfortably above me. Official-sounding voices float their way up the stairs. I creep down the hallway, out of view from anyone downstairs.

"So, my understanding is that you are currently housing two children whom you believe are currently residing in an abusive household," says a woman's voice who I don't recognize.

Fuck.

Tristan sees me at the top of the stairs, his eyes widening. He excuses himself from the living room and follows me back to his room.

"Ollie, let me explain," Tris grabs my wrist.

"Tristan, you weren't supposed to tell anyone. You promised," I try not to yell, but Zoey wakes up anyway.

"What's happening?" Zoey rubs her eyes and sits up.

"Zo, some people are probably going to ask us some questions in a few minutes. If they ask you about Daddy, make sure to tell them about when he took you out to lunch and brought us dinner. Don't tell them about last night," I make Zoey lock pinkies with me before I turn to Tristan.

"Ollie, you were in danger. I had to tell someone. Penny works in child psychology, I thought she could help," Tristan holds my shoulders, trying to make me listen.

"Tris, she called fucking CPS. They're going to take us to a group home or some shit. I thought you could keep a fucking secret," I want to cry, but I won't let him see.

"It was a dangerous secret, Ollie! You could've been killed," Tristan pulls me into him, and I let him for a minute. I push him back and take Zoey's hand.

I walk her to the top of the stairs where a fair woman with blonde hair looks us up and down. "Oliver and Zoey Simmons?"

"Yes ma'am."

+++

We're asked question after question. Every so often, I'll look up to see Tristan seated at his kitchen counter. He tries to look me in the eyes, pleading me to understand. And the fact of the matter is, I do understand. He meant well. But his well-meaning got me and Zoey in some real hot shit.

I don't look him in the eyes.

+++

"It is my understanding that CPS was contacted once before, five years ago. Is this correct?" The woman asks.

"Yes, ma'am."

"In those five years, were there any more incidents?"

"No ma'am."

"So, between then and now, your father has never hit you, or directly put you in danger?"

"No, ma'am."

The woman closes her notepad and stands up with a sigh. "We were unable to track down your father this morning. We'll continue to search for him and ask him similar questions, and you two may again be called in for questioning. For now, you will be placed in a home not too far from here. While we get everything situated, you will still attend your school and carry about as normal."

We're beckoned to follow the officer to her car, Zoey crying silent tears. Tristan hugs us both before we have to leave. I don't want to be mad at him. I kiss him once more before I enter the backseat of the car.

"I love you, Ollie. I'm so sorry," Tristan holds me tight. He lets go.

Zoey and I are housed with a polite old couple who feed us soup for both lunch and dinner. The day passes by painfully slow. I'm grateful for the fact that tomorrow is Monday.

+++

T: Can you come to the park after school?

O: ill see if im allowed to

+++

"Why weren't you in school today?"

"I just couldn't. Was school okay?" Tristan reaches for my hand. I let him take it. We sit atop the slide, the hot metal burning my shins.

"It was fine. What did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to say I'm sorry. I just wanted to protect you. I know you're mad," Tris says, but it's different. His eyes are glossy, and his words seem rehearsed.

"Tris, don't do that," I tug his arm towards me, knowing before I see the red gashes in his wrist.

"Don't do what?" He pulls his arm back, turning it over.

"When things get hard, you do this thing. You float. You don't think. It's like you're not really there," I tell him, my voice rising.

"I'm sorry. I don't realize I do that," His voice is airy and light. .

"Tris, you don't get to be upset about this. You don't have to," My voice catches in my throat.

Tris furrows his brow. He comes back to me, for just one second. "You don't get to decide what hurts people. I'm upset, Ollie. I'm upset because I think I've lost you. I've broken your trust and I don't know how to get it back."

"Tristan, you meant well. But stop being so good for just one goddamn minute," I stand up. "I think we need a little break while this gets figured out."

He stands with me, following me down the ladder. "Wait, Ollie."

"What?"

"Can I kiss you one more time?"

I kiss him again, and it almost feels normal. I pull away, kicking myself.

"What? What was it, Ollie?"

"Nothing. I'm just mad. Cause I still love you."